


A tale of two brothers

by WhiteHairedBoy



Series: A tale of two brothers [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Love Poems, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteHairedBoy/pseuds/WhiteHairedBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you do if your supposedly dead brother answered to the poem you wrote on his tombstone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dante walked slowly in the grass, wet from the recent rain, which had just stopped falling. The sky, though, was stormy, and the air felt heavy, announcing that the truce was going to be short-lived. He stopped near a white stone, on which one single world was carved: “Vergil”.

His city actually had a small cemetery, but its conditions were as bad as the rest of the buildings, and Dante never thought a holy ground was the right place to bury a half-demon. To tell the truth, there was nothing to bury, but he wanted a place in which he could remember his twin. After all, Vergil’s death had been his fault.

He went there every now and then, when he felt like the melancholy and guilt were too much for him to handle, but that was a special occasion. It had been one year, exactly 8760 hours since the day he had killed the twin he thought had already been dead. 

From the long red coat, shiny because of the water drops, he produced a red marker. He knew Verge would have hated him for that: his older brother was the kind of person who would have gone for an epic sentence of some ancient warrior carved in marble more than a sloppy love poem written in pen on his tombstone, but Dante had spent sleepless nights thinking of that and he was not going to change his mind. 

He had never been good with words, and what he had managed to come up with didn't seem nearly good enough. It was just a childish love poem-like kind of thing, yet he wanted to give Vergil his very own farewell. He kneeled in the wet ground and started writing just under his brother's name:

Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
I was the one that  
Your last breath drew. D

It was his way of saying that he was sorry, that he missed that person for whom he had cared the most during his whole life, even though he had never admitted it, not even to himself. It was his way of saying that he regretted what he had done, knowing that there was no going back.

Then he rose back to his feet and, after giving one last look to the stone he turned back.  
"This" he thought, "is a goodbye, Verge. A real one, this time."

One drop of water fell on the red coat, followed by a second, and then a third one. If, falling, the rain mixed with tears on the half-demon face, no one needed to know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! Sorry for the wait, but I got a bit stuck... Enjoy, anyway!!

The door of the fridge slammed, kicked close by Dante, who was balancing a beer in one hand and a pizza in the other, a slice already in his mouth. Kicking his chair, too, he turned it around and dropped himself heavily on it.

"Stop showing off, and use your hands like a normal person!" Lady commented, barely even lifting her eyes from her magazine. "After all, I'm the one who ends up paying for all the repairs, so you could at least try to avoid destroying the shop more than you already do."   
Dante laughed and took a sip out of the beer.

"Yes, MOM..."   
Before Lady had a chance to reply, the roar of a motorcycle started approaching the shop, making both of them turn their heads towards the door.   
"Are you two going to go shopping with my money again?" Dante asked in an amused and slightly annoyed voice.

"It's not YOURS if you own it to me." With this Lady picked up Karina Ann and rose to her feet. Opening the door she found Trish already waiting for her, engine still roaring and ready to go.   
Dante, lazily got up again and followed the brunette, who strode to the vehicle and got on, greeting her friend dryly. With this, the two girls left, completely ignoring the demon-hunter on the door.

"Aw, come on! Don't I deserve at least a goodbye?" The half demon shook his head and went back inside the office. He supposed accidentally destroying a good portion of his friends' wardrobe had been a bad move: they probably weren't going to pardon him any time soon.

Having just returned from a job, he had no intention of doing anything even vaguely productive, so he took off his coat and went back to the pizza on the desk. The shop was unusually quiet, not even Agni or Rudra annoyingly discussing, as usual.   
He didn't dislike it, but he had gotten used to Patty's constant talking, the girls' reproaches and the stupid things Nero used to say when he came visiting.

Absorbed by his thoughts, at first he didn't notice the strange itch on his abdomen, but then it became insistent enough to distract him. Confused, he passed a hand on his chest and abs, and he noticed that, out of nowhere, wounds were emerging on the pale skin.

He put down the half-eaten slice of pizza and moved swiftly in front of the mirror in the corner of the room. At first he didn't understand, surprised by the phenomenon itself: his body, usually so fast to heal, didn't immediately repair itself, and this alone was enough to amuse him. Then he noticed that the extending red lines were forming letters, as to bring a message. 

Dante fell to his knees in front of the glass, eyes open in shock at the image in front of him: on his abdomen, carved in small, red cuts, words were appearing. One after the other, repeatedly scarring the skin that closed itself on top of them after some moments, they spelled verses that seemed so familiar to the half-demon:

Violets are blue   
Roses are red  
Yet you were going to die first  
Our father always said. V

He didn't doubt the poem for the briefest of seconds. OF COURSE Verge was going to pay attention to the damn rhymes while announcing to his twin he was alive, somehow. Then the the realization hit him with all of its force. "Vergil..." he breathed out, starting to shake. 

He felt like his life was being squeezed out of his body. His mind was completely gone, running over and over his wishes, memories, thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. He had killed him, killed him with his own hands, yet...  
"My brother... my brother is alive."


End file.
